


Ode to The Hidden

by itishawkeye



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Janet isn't Tim's birth mom, Ra's is creepy, Tim has secrets, Witness Protection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:38:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itishawkeye/pseuds/itishawkeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are a little more complicated than they thought, but secrets can't stay hidden forever. Especially not when they involve faked deaths and wanted criminals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The docks are dark and quiet, save for the sound of the waves slapping against the concrete side of the ground. The moonlight glints against the metal of the shipping containers that are stacked three or four high across the pavement, forming a maze of metal.

Red Robin pulls open the door of yet another container and glances in, sighing when he finds only some sort of metal components inside.

"Row four is clear," He says into his comm.

"So is row six," A deep voice replies. Nightwing. “Alright, it’s gonna be row five if it’s here, then. Meet you in the middle?” 

“Yep,” Red Robin confirms. He hauls himself over the container and jumps down to the other side. Nightwing is already there, heaving a container door open on the left side. Red Robin heads to the other end of the aisle. The first container is painted a faded red. He wrapped his hands around around the handle, but froze before yanking it open. 

There was a small tapping sound  coming from inside the container. Red Robin pauses to listen for a moment, then he turns to where Nightwing is standing, gesturing him over. He is standing by Red Robin’s side in a second. He replaces his hand on the handle and takes a deep breath before pulling. 

There are seven pairs of eye staring back at him. 

They are kids. The oldest is probably around eleven, and the youngest looks around six. The oldest stands in the front, arms stretched protectively in front of the younger children, eyes both defiant and tired at the same time. Red Robin sucks in a breath and Nightwing shifts to stand a little in front of him.

“You’re safe now,” He says. “Come with us.” 

The oldest one steps forward cautiously. “You’re not cops,” She half-whispers. 

“No, we’re super-heroes. We’re gonna take you home,” Dick replies. 

“Super-heroes? Do you work with Superman?” One of the younger children asks.

“Sometimes,” Dick says. “If you come with us, you might even get to meet him.” 

Dick holds out his hand, and the girl takes it. The other children follow.

“We’ve got trouble, at six o’clock. Could use some help, Red?” Red Hood’s voice comes over the comm. Red Robin looks up to where Hood was keeping watch just in time to see him leap across the containers. 

He glances toward Nightwing, and the older vigilante nods at him. He’ll take care of the kids. Red Robin takes off after Hood, towards the trouble. 

 

***

 

Trouble is ten thugs with hand guns. Tim lands beside Jason on the container. Jason glances at him and then down at the thugs, and Tim nods. Jason leaps off the container and lands behind the thugs with a loud thud. They all pull their guns out and turn around at the sound. 

“Hey, no need for that,” Jason says, raising his hands up in the air.

And that, of course, makes them all start shooting. (Every thug in Gotham knows that when you see the Red Hood, you start shooting, or you’re doomed.)

Jason leaps out of the way, laughing. Tim takes the opportunity to vault down while the thugs are distracted. No one notices him until he starts taking them out with his bo staff. There are  _ one, two, three, four,  _ five down before the others catch on to what is happening. Jason jumps into the fight, and they stand back to back, and the other five go down, no problem. 

Jason scowls at the unconscious body of one of the thugs. “Fucking child traffickers,” He says, kicking at one of the bodies.

“Well, they won’t be doing that after this,” Tim replies, pulling the zip ties tight around one of their wrists. 

Jason kneels down beside him to help tie the others up. “Scum of the Earth. If anyone deserves to die, it’s fuckers like these.”

“For once,” Tim replies. “I can’t find a fault in your logic.”

Jason glances at him, obviously surprised at Tim’s words. “Thought you were all in with Nightwing and B on the whole ‘no killing’ thing, Red.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t kill them,” Tim explains. “But I certainly wouldn’t hold a grudge against someone who did.”

Suddenly he feels Jason tense beside him, and his hand goes to gun. Tim reaches for his bo staff, but before he can find the problem, it literally smacks him upside the head. With a gun.

“What the fuck?” Jason exclaims. “Where did you come from?”

Tim tries to focus, Jason is fighting with someone now. He can see both of them have dropped their guns, but he can’t… can’t make out who Jason is fighting with. He tries to push himself up, but his arms won’t cooperate. He can’t see Jason anymore. He must have.... have hit his head pretty badly. Probably a concussion. His eyes flutter, and he feels himself drifting away…

 

***

 

“...Red, come on. Wake the fuck up. Red.”  

Tim doesn’t open his eyes, but he groans. His head hurts like hell. He can hear Jason sigh in relief above him. 

“Christ, kid. You scared the shit out of me.You got one hell of a bump on your head.” 

Tim warily opens his eyes, thankful that the lights are out. Jason's face comes in focus above him. He’s on the ground, and they aren’t in the cave. Jason’s hands are tied behind him. Oh shit. Jason didn’t win the fight. 

“Where are we?” Tim asks.

“Good question. They knocked me out too. I don’t know where they came from, but suddenly there were seven more ninjas in there. They got you over the head before either of even knew they were there.” 

Tim groans again, and tries to sit up. It’s a bad idea. The nausea and dizziness hits him and he’s back on the ground immediately. 

“Careful there. You’ve gotta a serious concussion, Red.” 

“We’ve gotta get out of here, Hood,” Tim argues.

“Yeah, well give me a second to come up with a plan. You throwing up doesn’t help.” 

The door creaks open and four people dressed in dark colors enter with guns at the ready. Jason is up and standing protectively in front of him before Tim can even attempt to react.

“Get up,” One of the guards says, directing his gun at Tim.

“You gave him a concussion. He can barely lift his head,” Jason snaps.

The guard looks thoughtful for a minute, before pulling out a knife. 

“Any funny business, and we shoot the little one,” He informs Jason.

Tim assumes he is the little one.

The guard steps forward to cut the bonds holding Jason. Jason rubs at his wrists. The guard points toward Tim again. “Get him up,” He says gruffly to Jason.  

Jason leans down next to him, pushing his arms underneath Tim’s armpits. “Sorry, Red,” He says as he hauls Tim up. Tim groans as he’s forced upright. He slumps against Jason. 

He feels a gun nudge into his back.

“Forward.” The guard says. 

Jason moves, and Tim tries to keep up, and not stumble. 

The guards lead them into a brighter room than the one they woke up in. Tim winces when they open the door. There are two chairs in the center, and the guard directs Jason towards it.

“Put him down there.”

Jason drops him down in the chair and Tim tries very hard not to let his head fall. One of the guards throws a pair of handcuffs at Jason, who catches them easily.

“Cuff him to the chair.”

“Oh, come on,” Jason tries. “He’s not going anywhere. Look at him!”

The guard aims his gun at Tim, finger on the trigger. “I said, cuff him to the chair.”

Jason puts his hand up. “Okay, okay. No need for that.”

He steps around to the back of Tim’s chair and Tim feels the metal tighten around his wrists. 

“Now, sit next to him, and be quiet,” The guard says, and Jason does.

Tim didn’t think he’d ever see the day when somebody got Jason to be quiet. 

One of the other men steps forward with a second pair of handcuffs and locks Jason in too. 

Tim can hear the sound of another door being pulled open somewhere in the room, but he can’t turn his head far enough to see who is entering.

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind them and Tim freezes because  _ he knows that voice and it’s owner can’t be here right now.  _ “I never thought I would get the chance to see you again, Tim.”

Jason looks over at him at the use of his name with shock and curiosity. Tim doesn’t meet his eyes.

A woman appears in his field of vision. She has long, slightly graying black hair pulled into a severe bun and cold, blue, familiar eyes. She’s wearing all dark clothes like the rest of the men they’ve seen here, and she has a gun strapped over her shoulder. 

“You’re supposed to dead,” Tim bites out. 

She laughs. “Sorry to disappoint, Tim. Tell me, how  is your father?” 

“Fuck you!” Tim growls, and she slaps him so hard that his head snaps to the side with the impact and his concussion practically screams at him.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother,” She says and Tim fights the urge to scream.

“What?” Jason cries. “Red, what the fuck is going on?”

The woman (it’s not really her, it’s not really her, she’s dead...) turns to look at Jason then, intrigued.  She walks closer to Jason and takes his chin in her hands. “And who are you?” She says, smiling. 

“You don’t know?” Jason retorts.

“The Red Hood, isn’t it? I hear you’re the one for crime lords to fear.”

“Leave him alone,” Tim grits out, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. 

“That’s right,” Jason says, ignoring Tim. “So you better be afraid.”  _ No, no, don’t.  _

She pulls the gun off the her shoulder and aims it at Jason. “Sorry,” She says. “There’s a new sheriff in town.”

“No!” Tim screams.

The woman doesn’t take her finger off the trigger, but she turns to look at Tim. “What the matter, Timmy? Still no stomach for death?” She smiles. “We’ll just have to fix that.”

She moves her finger…

And a blur of blue and black slams into her, knocking her to the ground. The other guards start firing, and he feels the metal cuffs behind him loosen before he’s pushed to the ground. Robin appears from behind them, and jumps into the action to take out the guards with Nightwing.   
“Stay down,” Jason orders him before running after Damian. 

Normally, Tim wouldn’t listen, but right now he doesn’t have much of a choice. The room is spinning far too fast for him to even attempt to stand up. 

Someone is looming over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll come back from you.” His mother. Her hair has fallen out of her bun, and it creates a dark curtain that obscures his vision. Her eyes pierce into his. And then she’s gone. 

Tim loses some time after that. Suddenly, Dick is picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder, fire-man style. He groans at the sudden change in location, and he doesn’t remember much after that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim wakes up and faces the family

He wakes up in a bed this time, in the cave. With pain meds, judging by the IV in his arm and the lack of aching in his head. It’s a much nicer way to awaken then last time.

“He’s awake!” Damian calls, and Tim still winces when the too-loud sound hits his ears.

They didn’t give him the good drugs, then.

There are footsteps and Dick and Jason appear beside him.

“We’ve got a few questions for you, Tim.” Dick says.

Oh, right. _She_ showed up.

“Starting with who the _fuck_  was that and why the hell did she know you?” Jason demands.

“Her name is Kristen Kellan. She was big in the Las Vegas Mafia back in the early 2000s. She was shot and supposedly killed in 2008. But apparently not,”

“And she’s your…” Jason trails off.

“She’s my birth mother, yes. She wasn’t lying.”

Dick and Jason share a glance. “Tim, I’m a little confused. Are you… part of the mob?”

“No!” Tim says. “I am pretty much the opposite of in the mob. I think the mob wants to kill me pretty bad, honestly.”

Dick sighs and sits down next to the bed Tim is lying on. He lays a hand on Tim’s arm. “Can we get to an explanation here, kid?”

Tim looks away from Dick to stare back at the ceiling. He really never wanted to have to tell this story. He hears an impatient huff from where Damian is standing and rolls his eyes.

_Fine. Might as well get to it._

“When I was around six, my Dad witnessed a murder. She… she shot this guy, and my Dad was. Disgusted. He hadn’t really known what he was getting into, and that was the first time he really _saw._ He tried to turn her in, but she found out, and well, she wasn’t very happy.”

_Tim raises his hands over his head to protect himself from the glass that had just shattered above his head._

_“After everything I did for you! You try to fucking turn me in? You peice of shit! Do you know who I am?” His mother screams at his Dad, spit flying from her mouth in her rage._

_Tim’s Dad has blood running down his cheek from where she hit him with her ring and a bruise forming under his eye. She grabs Tim roughly by the arm and pulls him toward her. “Pack a fucking bag. Were leaving. And if you pull this shit again, you won’t be the one bleeding. Understand?”_

“We left, went into hiding, and things were a little rough.”

_He has bruises across his side from where she shoved him into the coffee table, and blood on his palms from where the glass broke. Tim doesn’t know what he did, but he apologizes anyway. Her gaze softens and she reaches forward to ruffle his hair, ignoring the way he flinches. “It’s okay, Timmy. Just clean this up.”_

_It’s not so bad all the time. She rarely actually hits him._

“When I was eight, my Dad decided enough was enough and we ran.”

_It’s midnight and Tim has been awake with his clothes on over the covers this whole time. He has a packed bag hidden under the bed, all he has to do is wait… wait for his Dad to come get him and then they are leaving._

_They sneak pasts the guards in front of the building and walk for hours and hours down strange hidden streets and through parks before Dad finally deems them far enough way to get on a train without having to worry about Mom finding them._

_They go three cities away before finally walking into a police department that Dad is sure Mom has no pull in._

“And then they put us in Witness Protection. They put us in a new life and Dad met Janet. But then she found us again.”

_One of the officers assigned to their case shows up at his school and puts him in a nondescript car. They drive for seven hours, and she won’t answer any of Tim’s questions. Is she back? Is his Dad okay? His step-mom? She checks her rearview mirror every ten seconds, and doesn’t even try to hide her gun from him._

“We had to move. And that’s when we came to Gotham. I was ten, maybe? They told us she was dead the next year. I guess they were wrong.”

“Jesus Tim, why did we not know this?” Jason questions him, and Tim sighs.

“I thought she was dead, okay? I didn’t think it mattered.”

Dick squeezes his arm a little. “Tim, we’re family, okay? You can tell us anything.”

Tim knows that he would be upset if he found out that Dick or Jason or even Damian has kept a giant part of their life secret from him. But, it just wasn’t something he had ever told anyone. At first, it had been because his life depended on it. Now, it was just… habit.

“Does father know?” Damian asks. He’s standing at the end of Tim’s bed, now, eyes angled downward, fists buried in his hoodie, uncharacteristically reserved.

“I don’t know,” Tim admits. “I thought he did, at first. But now I’m now so sure.”

“You’ve never talked about this with anybody? Not even the Titans, or Steph?” Jason asks.

“No. It just… it wasn’t something I talked about. Talking about it is definitely not something that agents on our case encouraged and I guess I just never saw a reason too, after.”

Tim closes his eyes because _god is he tired._ Dick pats his arm, and finally pulls away. “Why don’t you get some rest, Tim? We can figure the rest of this out when B gets back.”

Tim nods sloppily, and hears the sound of footsteps retreating back out to the main area of the cave. He’s almost asleep when…

“Drake,” It’s Damian’s voice, next to him, where Dick had been sitting a minute ago. Tim cracks an eye open, curiously.

“What?” He grunts.

“I find it… disturbing that I was not aware of this part of your past. I understand why you would not tell me specifically about it, but Grayson? Or Todd? And Father? I do not understand how or why you kept this hidden from them.”

Tim closes his eyes again for a minute, thoughtful. Damian has never shown this much concern for him, and he’s a little of confused about why he is now. Tim guesses that maybe a story about a mother who cares more about her career in crime than her own son would resonate with Damian. Yet, it still feels… weird.

“I… I don’t know why, honestly. I think, maybe, I was afraid that if they found out my mother was the exact thing we fight against, they wouldn’t trust me anymore.”

He turns to look at Damian. “Even after everything, everyone she’s hurt, and all the stuff she did to me and my Dad… I still love her. She’s my mom. I know it’s fucked up, But I can’t help it, you know?”

Damian frowns. “I do know,” He admits, so quietly that Tim isn’t sure he was supposed to hear.

Damian turns and walks away, and Tim closes his eyes to finally drift off to sleep.

 

***

 

This time, when Tim awakens, Bruce is standing over him. The cowl is pulled back and Bruce frowns sympathetically at him, running a gentle hand over his brow.

“We ran a search on Kristen Kellan,” Bruce tells him, gently. “You were right, she was confirmed dead in 2008. Jason says there were ninjas at the shipping yard.”

“You think this is R’as?” Tim asks.

“Possibly. He has shown an… interest, in you of late.”

Tim runs a hand over his face. The last thing he needs is R’as al Ghul teaming up with his _mother._

“Dick read the full report before I could stop him. He knows everything your father testified about. I asked him not to talk to anyone else about it. I didn’t think you’d want them to know.”

“I don’t,” Tim says. “Thanks, for asking him.”

Bruce nods, a little sharply. “You know, you can talk to any of us, Tim.”

“I know. But this isn't really something I like to even think about.”

Bruce nods. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Still pretty dizzy. And tired.” Tim admits.

Bruce leans over to check on the medication Tim is getting. “Jason said you get hit pretty hard. You’re gonna be benched for at least two weeks.”

Of course. Right when all the villains seem to be out to get him, and Tim can't do anything about it. He knows that Bruce is right, but that doesn't mean that he likes it.

“It’s not that bad,” Tim lies.

Bruce just shakes his head at him. “I’ll keep you updated on everything, but you have to rest.”

He pats Tim’s arm and turns to leave.

“Did you know?” Tim asks. “About my mom?”

“Yes,” Bruce says. “But I knew I would have never gotten you to talk about it.”

 

***

 

Tim had known Dick was going to want to talk to him long before he walked into the cave’s infirmary again.

Tim doesn’t want to do this. Doesn’t want Tim to look at him like he’s small and pitiful and can’t take care of himself. Tim is not damaged. He knows it wasn’t an ideal childhood but it's over now. He knows that if they don't talk about it, Dick will think the worst.

“Hey, Tim, how are you feeling?” Dick asks, plopping down in the chair next to him.

“A lot better,” Tim assures him.

There’s a moment of silence and Tim can feel Dick’s eye boring into him. Tim lets out a long sigh. He might as well face this head on.

“I know you read the file.”

Dick rubs his hand over the back of his head. “Bruce told you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. “Listen, I know it seemed bad when my Dad was saying it, but it wasn't really like that.”

Dick leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “What was it like, then?”

_Dad had grabbed him from his bed in the middle of the night and crowded the two of them in the closet at the back of the house._

_“You have to quiet, no matter what, okay?”_

_And then the shooting started._

_His Dad clamps a hand over Tim’s mouth to hold in the startled scream. He doesn't let go._

_The shooting fades away and his father lets out a shaky breath and pulls Tim closer._

_There are footsteps getting closer and closer to the door and somehow Tim knows that if it isn’t his Mother who pulls it open, he’ll have a lot more to worry about than a few bruises. He closes his eyes when the doorknob starts to turn._

_“Come on, we're leaving.”_

_He’s never been relieved to hear her voice before._

_There are bodies strewn across the floor of the apartment, shattered glass, and pieces of drywall everywhere._

_Dad picks him up so he won't step on anything with his bare feet._

_“Where she we dump the bodies, boss?” One of the remaining men asks._

_“Just cut up and burn them, dump them in the river. We’re out of here, got it?” His mother replies._

_“You got it.”_

_Tim can’t look away, even when they pull out the hand saw._

“It wasn’t… It wasn’t good, okay? I’m not crazy, I know it was a fucked up situation. But it was just my life. I was used to it.”

Dick leans forward again. “You were a kid. And what you saw, what she did to you… You can’t just brush that off.”

_“Stop it!” His Dad screams, but his mother only pushes him back against the wall._

_“He needs to learn,” She says, dark and dangerous, before turning her attention back to him…_

“Yes I can,” Tim says firmly. “If I spent my whole life lingering on the shit that went on, then she would really win. But I moved on. I became something good, despite everything she did. I save others from people like her now instead.”

Dick smiles at him at little. “You’re right. I know. It’s just… I guess I haven't had the time you’ve had to get used to this.” He laughs a little, and his hand finds its way back into his hair. “God, I’m acting like I’m the one who had to actually deal with this.”

Tim shakes his head, and then winces because he forgot he still has a concussion. “No, I get it Dick. If I found out all this about one of you… Trust me, I would be the same way.”

Dick frowns, and moves to hold Tim’s hand. “I just don’t like the thought of you being hurt.”

Tim squeezes Dick hand and smiles at him. “It was a long time ago, Dick.”

“Yeah. Get some rest kid. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not exactly a lot of action in this one- sorry. Mostly just Tim talking to various members of the Batfam.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's recovery is interrupted.

Tim spends most of the next week sleeping. Alfred has forbidden him from so much as looking at a computer screen, so there’s nothing he can do to try and find his mother. At least Bruce and Dick update him on everything that’s happening with the case. A woman matching her description has been spotted at several robberies around the city; it appears she gathering funds. For what, Tim is almost afraid to find out. 

He’s gotten visits from everyone from Steph (who was more than a little angry that Tim had kept such a big secret from her) to Kon (who Bruce glared at for a solid five minutes before finally leaving them alone). Even Damian had come to sit by his bed and read to him. 

Damian has been… different around him, now. He’s still insulting and condescending, but he doesn’t avoid spending time with Tim anymore. In fact, he sometimes seeks out Tim’s company. Also, his violence towards Tim has ceased, but if that’s just because of his injury, Tim doesn’t know. He supposes he will find out when he’s recovered. 

They were in the middle of Stephen King’s  _ The Body  _ when Dick opened the door to his room. 

“Reported sighting of Kellan in the Narrows. B and I are heading out now. Damian, stay with Tim.” 

“But-” Damian stood up out of his chair, ready to argue, but Dick was already rushing down the hall and to the cave. Damian crossed his arms and slumped back in his chair. “Of course, I get stuck with babysitting duty,” he grumbles. 

Tim rolls his eyes. “I don’t need to be babysat.”

Damian looks over at him incredulously. “With a concussion and a psychopath targeting you? Yes. You do.” 

Tim just sighs and doesn’t reply. He knows Damian is right. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it. Damian doesn’t move to pick the book back up, so Tim just leans his head back against the pillows and closes his eyes. Between the concussion and the pain meds, Tim drifts off like it’s nothing. 

When he opens his eyes again, Damian is at the door with a batarang clutched in his hand. Tim immediately sits up, moving to fast and making his vision swim. 

“What is it?” He whispers.

“I heard something,” Damian says.

The door swings open.

Damian jumps into action immediately throwing the batarang at the first assailant and jumping to kick the second. Tim reaches for the taser he has stashed under the bed, ignoring the way the room spins. Damian’s taking on five ninjas, and there’s more coming in through the windows. He stumbles over to one that has their leg half in the room and fires the taser, watching as they fall out, taking the one below them with them. One gets up behind him and grabs him be the arms. He breaks the hold automatically but the quick movement makes him fall to the ground. The ninja leans over to throw him over his shoulder but Tim manages to kick him in the stomach hard enough that he slams into the wall behind him. 

Then he hears a gun click. “Enough.”

His mother is standing behind Damian, who has his arms trapped by a ninja on each side, and she has a gun to his head. 

“Play nice, Tim,” She says. 

He struggles to sit up. “Stop.”

She considers his words for a moment, tapping her finger lightly against the trigger. Tim tenses more with each movement. “I don’t know, Tim. Are you gonna be difficult?”

Tim grits his teeth. He knows this game. She used to do this all the time, as if she just wanted to remind him of the power she had over him. Has. “No.”

“Good,” She says and then she slams the back of her gun into Damian’s head. 

Someone throws a bag over his head and he is plunged into darkness. 

 

***

 

It’s a long time before someone takes off the bag. He counted to nine hours before he fell asleep again. Damn concussion. He wakes up when the back is ripped off his head and he’s suddenly blinking in the light. He squints his eyes and tries to figure out where exactly he is as his eyes adjust to the harsh lighting.

He’s leaning against something solid, stone. His hands are tied behind him, the material is strong; it doesn’t even budge when he pulls. He’s in a cave, one he recognizes. There are shadows dancing along the walls and a sickly greenish tint bathing everything in sight.  _ Shit. Bruce was right.  _

There, standing next to his mother was Ra’s Al Ghul.  

“Hello, Detective,” Ra’s says, smirking. 

“Ra’s,” Tim greets. “What’s this about?”

“This is about you, of course.”

“And what exactly do you  _ want  _ from me?” 

Ra’s steps forward and places a hand on Tim’s chin, forcing him to look up at him. Tim jerks away even though it makes the pounding in his head even louder. 

“I want you to be my heir.” 

Take over the league of assassins? Needlessly kill thousands of people? Spend his days power-drunk and pit-crazed? All for a man who possibly brought his worst nightmare back to life and kidnapped him? The image of Damian falling to the ground as his mother’s gun slammed into his head, of her finger on the trigger as she prepares to kill Jason come to his mind, filling him with rage. He stares defiantly up at Ra’s. 

“I’d rather die,” Tim says, and then he spits in Ra’s face.

Ra’s jerks back, anger contorting his features for a moment before he regains control of his emotions. He wipes his face with his sleep. “I expected nothing less, Dectective. But you will change your mind. For now, you still need to rest.” 

Ra’s turns towards two of his assassins who are waiting by the cave entrance. “Take him to his cell.”

 

***

 

The cell is small and dark, with no windows and a door made of reinforced steel. But, at least there’s a small, relatively comfortable looking bed in the corner. One of the assassins pushes him on to it unceremoniously, making him too lightheaded to react before the door slams shut. Tim sighs and leans back on to the pillows. 

What the hell is he going to do?

He’s too incapacitated to fight his way out right now. Ra’s is right: he still needs to rest. But who knows what Ra’s or his mother will do to him in the time it takes for his ears to stop ringing every time he so much as sits up too fast? Tim shivers at the idea of his mother trying to  _ convince  _ him to stay with her and Ra’s.

God, has Ra’s really brought her back from the dead? 

There are too many questions and not enough answers. Tim’s only option here is to bide his time and try to remain at unscathed as possible while waiting for someone to come and save him, or for an opportunity to escape, once (if) he gets well enough. 

He hears the door creak open and tenses, moving to stand against the back wall of the cell. His mother enters and the door slams shut behind her again. She doesn’t have her usual gun on her, and Tim looks her up down warily. 

“Relax, son. I’m not going to hurt you,” She says.

“I am not your son.”

She looks at him with fake hurt written across her features. “Tim, I gave you life. Nothing you say, nothing you want to believe will ever change that. You have my blood.”

She steps closer to him, and Tim wishes he could push himself further away, but there’s nowhere to go. 

“All you ever did was hurt me and my father. It doesn’t  _ matter  _ if I have your blood or not, you made it so we could never be family.”

“Oh, I did?” His mother shouts, suddenly. “I was the one who made it so we couldn’t be a family? What about your father? Trying to fucking turn me in every chance he got! Trying to separate us. Well he failed. He’s dead and  _ I’m  _ alive. I’m all you’ve got now, Tim. You better get used to the idea.”

“No,” Tim replies, dark and low. “I have a family. And it doesn’t include you.”

“Family? Those little bitches you run around with in tights? Think again, Tim. They don’t care about you and they aren’t coming.”

“You think that kind of shit is still to work on me? I’m not seven years old anymore. I know better than to believe your lies.”

His mother shakes her head. “Fine. Wait and see. They won’t come. And when you’re ready to accept that, I’ll be here.”

She knocks on the door and it opens for her. 

“I love you, Tim. This is for your own good,” She says before the door slams behind her, leaving him alone again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been a while. Sorry, guys, you know school and responsibility and stuff. Ugh. Anyway, here's a new chapter, finally. Sorry it's so short, I'm thinking of maybe doing a change in perspective in the next chapter. Please tell me what you think in the comments. And please follow me on tumblr! itishawkeye.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little weird. Explanations about the whole "Tim, I am your mother" thing will come in the following chapters.


End file.
